


A Grain of Panic

by emma_and_orlando



Series: Joger Week [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, John is worried about money, M/M, Mpreg, Protective John, pregnant Roger, they are poor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: John has always wanted to be a father.But he hadn’t thought he’d still be living in a flat, working his horribly paid job and paying off his student loans- when he got Roger pregnant.





	A Grain of Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 of the Joger week: Children

"What are you wearing?" 

John laughs, Roger smiles sweetly as he comes strutting into their tiny kitchen.

More like waddling, but that's beside the point.

"It's your sweater." Roger leans onto Johns shoulder to plant a kiss on his awaiting lips. Bending over without support wasn't possible at this stage in his pregnancy. 

John can _definitely_ tell it is his sweater and not Rogers.

"It doesn't fit, Rog." 

To emphasize his point, John pokes his finger into Rogers popped belly button.

He is seated on the kitchen table/counter. On one of the barstools. Waiting for the past hour and a half for Roger to get ready for an afternoon of long delayed baby-shopping. 

"It smells like you! And it's blue." Roger argues right back with another sunny smile on his glowing face. 

He doesn't really mind Roger stealing his clothes. They couldn't afford a whole maternity wardrobe for Roger, which mean they definitely need to improvise.

It is also really adorable to have Roger walking around proudly showing off his pregnancy. 

It makes Johns heart sing.

Roger has always been the brightest star in his life, but pregnancy seems to have elevated him to a whole new level of glowing.

"What?" Roger asks when John has been staring for a tad too long. Subconsciously trying to pull the hem of the sweater over his bulging belly. "What is it?"

John just shakes his head. He hadn't even realized he's been staring.

He wraps his arms around Rogers waist and pulls him into another easy kiss. 

"You."

Roger shakes his head, his hands snake around Johns neck and his belly is pressed between the two of them. Messy hair shielding his twinkling eyes. "Put your shoes on you sap, or we'll never make it to the mall." 

"It's not like I've been waiting for you for over an hour." 

"Whatever, I'm driving."

~~~

If there’s one insufferable thing about his boyfriend, it is that Roger doesn’t hold any regards to damage to the eardrums and likes the turn the music volume up to 90% capacity. 

To the point where John is embarrassed to drive around with the windows open, and he has to sit with his fingers plugged into his ears.

“Rog, the baby will be deaf before its born.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Roger replies- his own voice barely booming over the blasting radio. 

“Fine.” John retorts. “Then I’ll be deaf before our baby is born.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not that loud.” Roger says. Nearly shouting.

John stares at him blankly, but his boyfriend is too busy driving to glare back at him. 

“The windows are rattling.”

“It’s an old car- besides, I drive, so I pick the music.”

John raises his eyebrows with an obviously fake cough rippling through him. “I’m not even a fan of you driving when you’re seven months pregnant.”

“You sound like a 70 year old man.”

John bites back saying something that might upset Roger. 

He doesn’t want their afternoon shopping to he tainted by an ancient argument between them.

He leans in and kisses Rogers cheek, before continuing with a trail down his jaw- until the fluttery butterfly kisses make him squirm and giggle.

“I’m driving, you idiot.” Roger says without any venom in his high pitches voice. Eyes twinkling as they stay focused on the road.

“Oh right, sorry!” John playfully exclaims over the deafening music. Splaying his broad hand over the round of Rogers belly. “Thought we were at the disco for a second.”

“You’re so lucky you’re cute. Cheeky bastard.”

John smiles against Rogers cheek, nuzzling the flushed skin affectionately. Not moving back to his own seat yet. 

Not while he feels his baby kick into his palm happily. 

“See, kiddo likes the music too.”

“Or they’re silently begging you to quiet it down.”

“Nah,” Roger shakes his head. “That’s not it.” 

~~~

"Pssst... John."

...

No answer.

Roger tries again, but this time he tugs on the cuff of Johns coat for good measure. He doesn't like being ignored. 

"Hey, Deacky."

John blinks out of his concentration, before turning his head to Roger, who looks surprisingly irritated. 

"Yes?"

"We don't need a fucking baby-wipes-warmer." 

The pregnant man snatches the absurd product from Johns hands, who's been studying the package for a good minute, and puts it back on the shelf. Amongst other useless items. 

John reaches for it again with a defensive frown. "There's a market for this. And a reason why they're selling it."

"Don't be ridiculous. We can barely afford the wipes itself."

The reminder of their money situation makes John sober up. He puts the box back on the shelf, even though he verbally sticks to his guns.

"We have my bonus from work."

Roger isn't having it. 

He scrambles for their shopping list in his pocket and opens the wrinkled paper with the hand he isn't using to support his back. Which is always arched in the strain to accommodate his belly.

John sees his discomfort and reaches out to splay his hand on the base of his spine as well. Supporting him by slowly rubbing circles. 

"We still need a crib. What about diapers Diapers? Maybe a stroller if we can afford it?" Despite his serious tone, Roger leans into Johns comforting touch while he scans over the list. "I could use a chest pump, or a heating pad. Anything but a wipes warmer. We're not raising a wuss."

John pouts. 

He really wants what is best for the baby. As a new father, John isn't sure what that entails and how much is too much, or not enough.

Reluctantly he lets Roger pull him towards the 'boring stuff' section with necessities. 

Which means, bottles, pacifiers, bibs and diaper bags.

While Roger has his hands on the cheapest outlet covers, Johns fingers itch towards a colorful box that reads 'Baby Spa Tub' in appealing yellow lettering.

"John!"

Roger snatches him away with an exasperated huff. John just has to laugh.

"Alright, alright. Sorry."

~~~

“That’ll be 1573,- pounds.” 

John gulps. His heart pounding at the number on the register.

Beside him, Roger is leaning against the checkout belt with a panicked look in his mellow eyes.

“That’s eh...” More than the bonus his work had given him. “That’s quite a bit.”

Hot shame washes over John.

There’s a line behind him. And he physically doesn’t have the money in his wallet now. 

He is failing as a father. Failing as a boyfriend.

“Hey,”

Roger grasps his arm. Forcing John to turn and look at him. 

John shouldn’t be surprised that Roger is smiling. Not at all stressed that they’re standing at the cash register with the items their baby needs to live the life he ir she deserves, but their parents can’t afford.

“It’s okay.” He winks, and turns to the bored cashier. “We won’t be taking the stroller. We got arms after all.”

“Right.”

She doesn’t appreciate the joke, but that doesn’t dim Rogers star.

With a huff, the cashier takes the stroller off the receipt. Which lowers the purchase total to 1236,- pounds.

Johns cheeks are still red with embarrassment. People are staring. Whispering amongst themselves, while he fishes the bills and precise amount of coins out of his leather wallet. His palms are sweaty and tremble under the nerves.

Lucky for him, Roger plants a big smoosh on his face, before ushering him away from the cash register as soon as the money was put in the palm of the cashier. 

“Let’s go to the bank before we go to another store..”

“Yes, boss.” John pipes out. His heart still pounding harshly against his ribcage on their way out of the crime scene. 

~~~

About two hours and three shopping carts later, Roger and John need a food break.

Especially Roger.

Instead of eating at one of the restaurants the mall offers, the couple eat the sandwiches they brought from home in the parking lot.

John finishes loading the car with their newly purchased baby items, while Roger sits on the curb. Eating his peanut butter, jelly, pickle sandwich.

His free hand alters between leaning back and rubbing the side of his stretched tummy. 

John slams the car door shut with a grunt.

He feels bad for having his pregnant boyfriend eat outside on the floor, because they can’t afford a shopping trip, gas money and a lunch all at ones. 

"One day I'll take you to one of those fancy High Tea restaurants attached to the boutique shops." He promises his beautiful Roger, while moving to sit down next to him.

He begrudgingly accepts the sandwich Roger hands him. John double checks to make sure it is a plain jelly one. (Free of pickles)

"This is okay, Deacks. Stop worrying so much." Roger bumps his shoulder against his, before leaning in for a short peck on the lips. 

"Besides, I love peanut butter jelly pickles more than anything those places could serve."

John smiles back at him, despite having spend almost all of their savings on the bare essentials for their child and still lacking in materials. While eating crushed sandwiches in the shadows of the parking lot. 

For now, he can push those problems down and thumb away a smear of butter from the corner of Rogers lip. 

“You’ve got a little-”

Roger licks his fingertip with a wink. 

~~~

John has always known he wanted children.

Not necessarily at the ripe age of 21, while he's working his minimum wage 9 to 5 engineering job at this terrible tech company, who don't cover a pension plan or vacation days. Or while Rogers main income still comes from his Vintage store with Freddie. Which does not provide any sort of financial stability whatsoever. 

John worries a lot.

About money and being able to provide for his new family. 

John wonders if he is good enough at all.

"John?"

Busted. The young engineer looks up from his project to squint at his boyfriend, who's yawning obnoxiously in the doorway. His blue eyes still bleary with sleep. 

Roger stumbles over to sit next to him. John offers him a hand to guide him down.

Slowly sinking into a squatting position while balancing himself on Johns hand and shoulder.

Once seated, Roger spreads his legs out, toes curled in the fluffy carpet and his hand cupping the underside of his bulging tummy. 

He leans heavily onto Johns side to stay upright.

"Is 2 am really the time you should be assembling an Ikea crib?" 

John doesn't directly answer Rogers question. And opts instead on continuing his mission on getting the screw for the pole to fit into the tiny wooden hole. Which Ikea definitely designed wrong. 

Definitely.

While John struggles with the pole, Roger sinks further into his side, eyes fluttering closed and his breath evening out, until John has to nudge him awake again. 

"You should go back to bed." 

Roger blinks lazily. "I'm pregnant. I can do whatever I want."

John represses a snort. 

Without another word, the two of them continue to sit in silence and watch Johns steady hands work the crib. 

John doesn't make a comment when Roger reaches out to eat a handful of the Oreos John had brought up for himself from the kitchen. He had laid awake for a good hour, thinking about how unprepared he is for their child. 

Who's coming in less then two months.

Yes, they had no other choice but to wait for Johns bonus before they could go shopping, but it had felt wrong to have the nursery full of unopened carton boxes.

Hence why John had gotten out of bed, tucked Roger back under the covers with a kiss, before doing something to feel more useful. 

More, accomplished.

When the wooden pole spikes into the hole with a satisfying thud, John nods proudly at his own handy work. 

The crib stands. 

A bit wobbly, and not every part is assembled yet. But it's standing on its own four feet. A few of the poles in place, and the over-heading mobile clicked in place. 

It’s not perfect, far from. But it’s safe and their child will never know they paid leas than 200 pounds for it. 

"Deacky?"

"Yeah?" John asks, its 3 am, and his tongue is heavy with sleep. 

Rogers eyes are droopy when they land on Johns. He is barely awake anymore, using Johns arm as a pillow. 

"You're gonna be a great dad, you know?"

John leans in to kiss the sleepy smile off of Rogers face. Eyes twinkling.

"It takes more than making an Ikea crib, I'm afraid."

"I know. But you got it- we got it."

Roger trails his hand down Johns wrist, until his long fingers lace in with Johns. His palm is warm from rubbing the bare skin of his stretching belly. And John leans in to kiss him again.

He is glad the darkness hides his warm blush from deep sea blue eyes.

"Now go to bed, the baby needs rest."

“Only if join me.”

John smiles softly, giving in almost immediately. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment to let me know if you liked it!! Omg


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